by H. M. Ward
Page 18
“There’s only one thing to do, Abby. ” I glanced at Kate. Her dark hair was swooped up into a sloppy ponytail on top of her head, and an oversized sweater swallowed her body. “You need to show him that you’ve already fallen. ”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Kate continued, “If he thinks you’re out of reach, if being with you will hurt you, he won’t do it. You have to show him that it won’t, Abby. Make him see you, all of you—your heart, mind, and soul—and accept that you choose him. ”
I shook my head, “I tried, Kate, but he wouldn’t listen. He pushed me away. ”
“Was this before or after he painted you?” she asked, a sharp gleam in her eye like she had a plan.
“After,” I replied, eyeing her. “What difference does that make?”
“It’s a world of difference. Here’s what you should do,” and she started telling me a plan that made me blush brightly. Kate laughed, shaking her head. “It’s an all or nothing plan. You have to be bold. Shyness will only make him think he’s corrupting you. Do you think you can do it?”
“I have to try. ”
__________
Only a few short weeks had passed since I got here. I managed to pay my loans once by myself and it felt good. I felt good. Part of me that had been repressed suddenly felt alive, and she wasn’t backing down without a fight. Jack was the prize and I couldn’t lose him again.
I spent the rest of the day getting ready. I washed my hair way too many times, until the sand was all gone. There was a small beach in the drainpipe by the time I was done. I pulled on a lacey bra and panty set that I got at the mall a few days ago. I bought them thinking no one would ever see them. Now I was putting them on hoping that Jack would see them and take them off of me. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach, making me feel sick. Part of me whispered that I should embrace the sickness and bury myself under the covers, but my giddy inner child was ready for an adventure. She wanted to jump off cliffs, and do things that made my heart pound. We high-fived and I shoved her into the back of my mind where she tied up my reasoning and held it captive with her unicorn. There was no way I would chicken out. I was going to do this.
After gazing in the mirror, I slid a pair of dark jeans over the sexy bottoms and felt beautiful. My hair cooperated, my makeup looked exceptional. There was only one thing left to do. I grabbed my bag and headed toward Jack’s studio.
When I arrived the place was dark. I let myself in, and locked the door behind me. Walking through the blackened halls, I looked for Jack. The echo of my heels hitting the tile filled my ears. Moving through the space, I found Jack outside, behind the studio, sitting in a chair with a drink in his hand, staring up at the sky.
“Hey,” I said after watching him for a moment. His dark hair fell forward as he lifted his head and looked at me.
His face lit up, “Abby. I didn’t think you were coming tonight. ”
I shrugged, like what else would I be doing. My heart beat wildly in my chest as I straddled the chair next to him and said, “I heard you were short on models. I want another painting, but I want to help paint it. ”
His eyes were dark and brooding. They slid over my face, hesitant to go lower. “I barely survived last night. I don’t have it in me, Abby. ”
Standing, I said, “I think you do. ” I pulled him up by his hand and led him back inside. Removing his drink from his hand, I put it down on the table. Leaning into him, I spoke softly, but firmly, “I’ll be clothed this time, Jack. You can do it. I won’t let you say no. ”
Jack’s eyes met mine. He seemed so distraught. “I already told you, Abby. I can’t do this. I can’t undo you. You’re out of reach for me. You always have been. ”
I took his hand in mine, and pressed it over my heart. His fingers grazed my breast, “Do you feel what you do to me?” If my heart slammed into my ribs any harder, they’d crack. He could feel it, racing wildly beneath his hand. His gaze remained melancholy. “Jack, look at me. ” His blue eyes met mine. They were darkening, wanting something he couldn’t have. Holding his hand to my heart, I leaned in to kiss him, but he looked down.
His voice was breathy, barely controlled, “I can’t. Abby, I can’t make you fall. ”
“Jack,” I cupped his face in my hands, pulling it back up so I could look into his eyes. “I’ve already fallen. Nothing you do will stop that. Pushing me away only makes us both miserable. Paint me. ” I whispered, pressing my chest to his, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. Before he could say no, I stepped away. Peeling off my shirt as I walked, I grabbed a brush and a can of paint. Jack’s eyes burned into me, I felt hot all over, my stomach twisting in knots. I dipped the large brush in red and drew a long stroke between my breasts over my lace bra. The color clung to the fabric, seeping beneath it.
I dipped the brush again and again, putting on more colors and painting my upper body. Jack watched me, frozen, his jaw tense, arms folded like he was holding himself back. I didn’t stop. I ignored his warning. Dropping the brush, I allowed it to splatter on the floor at my feet. Lowering my hands, I slowly unbuttoned my jeans, sliding them down over the curve of my hips, revealing the white lace beneath.
Jack’s eyes locked on mine. They were pleading for me to stop, his voice was heavy with want, warning me, “Abby. . . ” His voice was ragged, his breathing tight. His eyes watched me like he needed me, wanted me.
The jeans slipped off my ankle and I stepped out of them, bending over slowly, showing him the curve of my hips. I pushed the denim aside. I dipped my hands in paint, rising, and watching him. Ribbons of red and blue trailed up to my elbows as I held my hands in front of me. Sliding my fingers across my body, I slowly covered every curve in blue and red, painting over my pretty lace set without a second thought. Jack’s eyes watched me like a predator ready to pounce. The muscles in his arms twitched.
Breathlessly, I asked, “Which canvas?” There were several clean canvases laid out on the floor. Jack unfolded his arms for half a second and pointed. I followed his finger to the largest one in the center of the room. Moonlight spilled in through the window behind Jack, making him look ethereal. I stood in front of the canvas and glanced at him, my heart pounding in my chest. I barely had a voice, “Help me lay down. Jack…” I whispered his name, feeling it form on my swollen lips. Every part of my body was tingling, wanting him to touch me, to taste me.
For a moment he didn’t move. His eyes remained on my body, refusing to look in my eyes. Slowly, he pushed off the table he was leaning against as he had watched me cover my flesh in paint. He moved slowly, and stopped in front of me.
Heart pounding in my chest, I asked, “Help me fall, Jack,” and before he could answer I leaned back. Without a moment’s hesitation, Jack reached for me. His strong arms caught my body, linking around my waist, and pulling me back up toward him.
He was breathing hard, “Abby, you undo me. How could I tell you no when you act like that?”
Jack turned me toward him, his firm hands pressed into the soft skin at my back. “Then kiss me. Show me you love me. ”
He hesitated, “What about your vows? What about. . . ?”
“You’re the one person that’s perfect for me. As long as you know it, I trust you. ”
“There’s no going back, Abby. ” He closed his eyes, trying to speak—his body pressed into me, hard and wanting. Warmth covered my skin like fire, racing to my core.
“There was never anything without you. ” I linked my arms around his neck and pressed my body flush to his, as I lightly dusted my lips across his mouth.
Jack melted in my hands. The wall that he put between us came crashing down. I gasped as he pulled me tightly against him, his lips pressing harder against mine, tasting me, testing me. His hands slid up and down my body, feeling the curves of my bare waist, sliding over the thin fabric that covered my butt. Paint covered his hands as he threaded them through my hair, his kisses becomin
g hotter.
Without a word, he swept me up in his arms and lowered me to the canvas. Covering my body in kisses, he pulled back, his face covered in paint, like mine. I smiled at him as he took the can of red and drizzled the paint across my chest. Placing the can down, he took the blue and poured it over my stomach. The paint was cool to the touch, sliding over my hot skin more sensually than the night before. Jack put his hands on me, stroking the paint with his fingers, with my body moving under his touch. Sighing deeply, my head was swimming. Jack pulled his shirt over his head, and removed his jeans. My eyes slipped over his body, wanting to touch it, taste it, and feel him inside me.
Jack laid himself on top of me, slowly sliding against me, paint spreading, mixing between us. He rolled off of me, and pulled me on top of him. Straddling his naked hips, I looked down at him, paint dripping from my hair. His hands reached up behind me, unclasping the once white bra. It fell away, and he cupped my breast in his hand, squeezing me gently. I leaned my head back, swaying. My hips began to move on their own as he touched me, making me moan his name.
Every spot on my skin was on fire. I wanted his hands, his lips, touching me, kissing me. I writhed under his touch, craving more, not feeling sated. Calling his name, I tried to pull him to me, but he whispered, “Not yet,” in my ear. Teasing me with his teeth, he nipped my neck and trailed kissed down my body, stopping at my panties. Lifting my bottom, he slid his hands underneath and pulled them off, tossing them aside.
I knew the paint could cover every inch of our bodies and wash away, but when his lips trailed over my painted neck I wondered. As if Jack could read the thoughts running through my mind about the paint, he said, “It tastes like sugar, sweet like syrup. The paint can’t hurt you, Abby. ” I gazed at him, elated. That was part of my plan that had been uncertain. I’d planned on trying to drag him back to the shower, but when his paint covered lips began to kiss me, my brain melted.
Pulse pounding in my ears, I trembled as Jack’s hand traveled up my thigh and slid between my legs. His lips brushed kisses on my neck, as his fingers moved inside of me. Jack’s eyes closed as he felt me, his breath ragged, “Abby. . . ” He breathed in my ear, lowering his body to mine, keeping his hand between my legs, rubbing, stroking me gently. My back arched off the canvas, pushing into his hand harder. I needed him, wanted him. I called his name again, softly saying it over and over. He answered, “Tell me you want me, Abby. Tell me to take you and make you mine. ” I could feel his beautiful smile against the side of my face.